


“SMFS” (Save me from solitude)

by Teriana



Series: Middle Earth funny tales and Other Utter Poppycock [7]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Quest of Erebor, Thranduil - Freeform, thorin oakenshield - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 20:55:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17107958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teriana/pseuds/Teriana
Summary: Thorin Oakenshield conceived a plan to reclaim his homeland from the dragon and become the King of Erebor.And so he sets off on a Quest of Erebor. But little he knows that the Great Eru Ilúvatar has other plans for him. Would he dare to disobey Eru’s errand or submit to his unusual terms?





	“SMFS” (Save me from solitude)

**Author's Note:**

> The story about Thorin Oakenshield and the way he saved the Elven King Thranduil from solitude.

The Great Eru Ilúvatar appeared in Thorin Oakenshield’s dream and uttered.

“You are highly honored, Thorin of Erebor! You will save the Elven King Thranduil from his solitude and marry him.” His voice was ringing like a first spring thunder, solemn and very loud.

The dwarf was amazed and not with an unexpected visit of the One, but with his extraordinary proposal.

“Why should I?” He dared to confront the divine creature. “I’m a man after all.” he reminded him clearly.

“Because he is the Elven King Thranduil and that answers your question.” the creator of Anuir explained him plainly.

“Dratted nymph-like-prick-eared freaks!” cussed Thorin inwardly, and realized that the Great Eru, the Father of All heard his bad thoughts about his beloved children. Yes, a bad word whispered will echo a hundred miles.

“He needs you a lot! More than anything else in the world!” Eru added while his bright light trembled unevenly.

“Yeah! Yeah! Let me think of it.” Thorin waved his hands and immediately thought that he would never load his mind with such a delirious idea.

“Aulë creation, you’re in charge of my beloved child, remember!” the parting words of Eru sounded and he vanished into thin air as suddenly as he had appeared before him.

“To that I say – Ha!” the dwarf laughed ironically. “Want me to marry some elven guy even if he is a king? What kind of fool would I be if I did that?!” He scratched his beard.

Who could have imagined at that moment that subjunctive mood would become the future time.

Thorin realized that he had fallen hard for this aforementioned damn handsome Elven King, for his innocent azure eyes hidden under beautiful long and fluffy eyelashes, for his half-parted seductively thin rose lips, for everything else in him. The dwarf simply couldn’t take his eyes off when that one came to Erebor for his treasure.

But Thorin’s grandfather Thrór had simply deceived the Elven King Thranduil, he refused returning his treasure, and this incredibly magnificent elven creature was affronted and even nursed a grievance against the dwarves.

Thorin thought of returning the treasure to Thranduil as a reason to befriend him but Smaug the dragon intervened in his plans having attacked Erebor.

The Elven King had come by of course but not to help Thorin and the other dwarves. Sitting astride his giant elk with his impressive host behind him on the hill he was there with a war in his heart against the Durin’s Folk, watching how bereaved dwarves flee their homeland in fear.

Thorin was completely baffled and could not understand why Thranduil did not come to their aid. Was his grudge was so strong or something else prevented him from doing it – that’s unknown.

The Durin’s heir was speedily leaving the Lonely Mountain as the rest. And ahead of them lay a journey of some 1,100 miles and years, and years of wandering in the wilderness before it.

***

About 170 years have passed since the Durin’s Folk was forcibly expelled from the Lonely Mountain, dispossessed of their native land. After a long exhausting journey and several severe battles, after a life of hardship and loss, they finally found refuge in Ered Luin in the West of the Middle Earth. After Thráin’s disappearance a few years later Thorin became the King of Durin’s Folk.

And now life was better and everything would have looked so fine if not Thorin’s longing for home and his treasures.

And that was not the only reason he wished to return.

At this point it is necessary to mention about strange cases happening to Thorin cause the situation has recently taken a drastic turn. Lately, the same divine creature began pestering him at nights with his persistent admonishments again.

“You are to go on a journey to the east of Middle Earth. My beloved child suffers much from unbearable depression. You should fly to his help!” Eru’s voice was jingling so awfully this time Thorin thought he would go crazy.

“All right, all right!” he grumbled and cleared his throat, and then waved his hands in attempt to drive away this obsessive, restless creature. The King of Durin’s Folk woke up in his bed and looked around in utter darkness breathing heavily and cursing. He was really tired with all this stuff.

Next morning he was awoken with Balin’s excited words who informed him that Fili and Kili ran away to Mithlond and Thorin’s sister Dis had to take some dwarves with her to find these rowdy boys in the local market place.

However, Thorin was fed up with their permanent childish escapades and chose to travel a bit as he said. So instead of taking part in the search of his nephews he left his folk for about three weeks.

The King of Durin’s Folk had gone far incognito, donned his long black cloak with hood over his face so no one could recognize him.

He passed through the land of hobbits and then decided to spend the night at Bree, the township of Eriador.

It was early spring and the roads were very muddy and slippery, and soon Thorin’s horse got bogged down in the mud all four hooves. But as this damned nuisance happened just before the innkeeper’s door, the dwarf considered the situation not so bad. He called some inn boy that turned up in the vicinity and asked him to drag his horse out of the mud and then clean and feed the animal, and gave him a silver coin for it.

The boy bowed thankfully to Thorin and asked his three friends to help him and while they were busy with this dirty work the dwarf entered the inn and took a vacant seat at the tacky wooden table in the farthest corner. 

The waitress served him very quick and brought some bread, cheese and a mug of beer. The King of Durin’s Folk was quite hungry, but he looked around carefully checking the security level and kept his weapon close to him.

It looked like some strangers got interested in him first as they stared at him suspiciously but then they got back to their business and Thorin understood he had time to have his dinner.

The moment he broke a piece of bread in his fingers and was going to eat it, the scruffy grey-haired old man of giant size sat down in front of him.

“I’m Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey.” he introduced himself.

“Never heard of you.” Thorin muttered angrily in response.

The stranger pulled out an old yellow faded piece of paper and the King of Durin’s Folk recognized his father Thrór’s map. Their further talk took such a fascinating turn that soon Thorin understood the fortune favors him again. And of course fortune smiled on those who embraced its offerings. So the remainder of this scene consisted entirely of a long discussion between the wizard and the dwarf regarding a reclaiming the Lonely Mountain.

“I will give you much assistance.” The wizard assured the dwarf in the end.

With these words of his Thorin realized that there was no turning back and he should set out on a journey and reclaim his homeland from the dragon.

He smiled his acquiescence and answered to Gandalf.

“Agreed!”

***

As soon as Thorin returned to his folk and shared his plans with Balin, his old friend was only too glad and he spoke about it with the rest.

At the end of March a company consisting of thirteen dwarves led by their king Thorin moved out of Ered Luin and went on a long journey to the east.

At the end of April the dwarves reached the Shire, a land of the hobbits and got acquainted with one of them, Bilbo Baggins at Bag End. Together with Gandalf they started planning the Quest of Erebor.

Next early morning Gandalf, Bilbo Baggins and the dwarves set out from Bag End.

Adventures of various kinds followed them step by step.

During the journey, wherever Thorin’s company stayed, a constant element appeared in all Thorin’s dreams every night.

And yes, it was the One, who kept talking of his beloved child, the Elven King Thranduil on and on.

“I will support you and show you the visions of him to invigorate you and help you on the way.” the divine creature was singing incessantly.

Thorin gasped in thousandth time holding his head and muttered annoyed.

“Mahal! Upon my word I’m sure this journey will never end...”

But the Great Eru didn’t hear him or pretended to be deaf and continued to seduce the dwarf with images of his beloved elven child; and some of them were far more than explicit. Thorin saw Thranduil’s naked back and the wet silver strands lying on his shoulder blades as he swam in his round pool; and then he slept peacefully in his white as a swan, decorated in laces, hidden from prying eyes bed, amongst silken pillows and looked like an innocent baby; and some more of him – combing his silver hair in front of his big mirror in a pensive mood.

“See how lonely my poor child is, left alone, single and unsupported, and how hard he suffers in silence. Life without love is like a year without summer.” the Father of All mentioned to the dwarf. “I am sure you won’t fail me and will be able to save him.” the restless divine creature weaved from the bright light continued bothering Thorin.

They say the hard repetition is the best answer to one’s pleas and so erelong Thorin caught himself on the fact that he waits for each night to come. It was quite obvious, he got used to see the Elven King’s images and no longer opposed the divine creature to exploit him in his favor and it all took about a week only. It looked like the Great Eru has achieved the desired success with the dwarf. Now it turned out that Thorin could not imagine his day without a thought of the Elven King and shortly Thranduil completely captured his brain. That is to say, the dwarf fell asleep and woke up with a thought of the fairest elven creature in all Middle Earth before his eyes. Forgetting about everything, he could feel his essence yearns for this lonely poor elven creature.

During the quest Thorin has been obsessively thinking about the Elven King. And when trolls caught them, he wanted to escape faster from them, and when they visited Rivendell and he secretly admired the stately creatures, and when goblins got them entrapped and their lives were endangered too, even when he got into fight with Azog! Once hitting his nape against the stone his mind was visited a very quick thought that immediately quenched. “And if I’d fail to save ’im?

But the Fate was amazingly favorable to him and Thorin stayed alive.

Manwë’s eagles rescued the dwarves from orcs and carried them away from devouring flames. Beorn, a skin changer provided the travelers with horses and by the dawn they reached a dark forest, so to say impenetrable thickets of Mirkwood that lay ahead.

Since the moment Thorin’s company entered the elven forest it seemed deprived of its luck. After a long tedious wandering through the gloomy forest the dwarves understood they got lost. Furthermore, its evil spells which Gandalf warned them about began to work. At first all of them experienced visual and audial hallucinations and to top it all off, one of them, Bombur, the fattest dwarf fell into enchanted stream and dipped into a dead sleep. It felt like the spirit of the company has been broken, they were exhausted, starved and were mentally fatigued. And it seemed that only Thorin cared of nothing because he was in Thranduil's domain and that meant that he probably would see him. He had to distract from his dreams when gruesome giant arthropods attacked them and the dwarves attempted to fight them. The forces were not equal and the spiders began to win catching the dwarves one by one. However, the fortune had mercy on them and soon the Wood-elves came to their aid. Thorin rejoiced at seeing the Wood-elves who captured all the dwarves after they had slain all the monstrous creatures and this joy lasted until the moment he was brought before the Elven King’s eyes.

From this time on the dwarf forgot everything he planned to say to the king.

And the King Thranduil was pacing the floor of his Halls, with his nose in the air, like a cock of the walk and interrogated Thorin and his company. And Thorin stood in front of him stunned like a fool and beheld Thranduil with his mouth open.

“What were you doing in my forest? What do you want in my domain?” the king’s beautiful azure eyes flashed angrily as he clenched a carven staff of oak in his hands.

The dwarves were silent; they really had nothing to answer. They were caught off guard in a gloomy darkened thicket, infested with giant spiders and the elves came to their aid and they bravely smote all these ugly monsters in a flash, and now their king was plying them with questions.

After hearing some ambiguous answers, complaints and rebukes, the King of the Silvan Elves realized that this weird company won’t tell him anything interesting and ordered to throw them in the dungeons.

About three hours later when the Wood-elves began feasting and the King Thranduil had a taste of it too he called his servant Eldaron and ordered him to bring to his Halls a dwarf named Thorin Oakenshield.

As soon as Thorin appeared in Thranduil’s Halls once again his irrepressible Elven Majesty deluged him with questions once more.

“So, why did you come here?” he inquired impressively coming closer to the dwarf.

“I came to save you from loneliness.” It almost dropped from Thorin’s mouth.  

But Thranduil was so arrogant and so sassy and he didn’t look like a lonely person at all.

“He doesn’t look like a forsaken person at all.” the dwarf thought. “Well, suppose he doesn’t yet suspect that he’s a lonely one.” Thorin hypothesized, listening how that one scolding his grandfather Thrór who had deceived him and about talks about his treasure that remained in the dwarf’s mountain.

He could’ve sworn that the Elven King Thranduil was suffering from excessive conceit, not loneliness.

“I think you completely outraged all the rules of a good host.” the dwarf suddenly interfered and Thranduil fell silent at once, his mouth wide open.

“What?” he asked the dwarf, unable to get why that one had dared to interrupt his magnificent speech.

“I say you ought to be more hospitable and invite me for a pleasant conversation over two glasses of wine.”

Thranduil heard about the wine and blurred in a tricky smile. He couldn’t expect the dwarf to agree so quickly. Probably the wine could do everything for him and give a loose to the dwarf’s tongue.

“That will do! Fine!” the Elven King answered unexpectedly straightaway and amazed Thorin with his agility.

And so the King Thranduil invited Thorin Oakenshield to his large luxurious royal chamber as the dwarf had wished.

Just the two of them sat on a soft violet velvet couch opposite each other, in semi-darkness, shrouded in a light haze of fragrant meadow flowers that created scented candles on the fireplace. The room’s moody lighting suggested mystery and romance.

Thorin breathed in the sweet aroma and tried to relax. His gaze slid over the extravagant interior design. There were white fluffy carpets on the floor, several wooden tables stood not far, full of tiny bottles and pots of bizarre shapes, phials with rose petals and they were surrounded with high heavy chairs with carved floral patterns with pillows of pale tints. And his Majesty’s gorgeous bed that was just in front of Thorin. The one he had so often seen in his dreams, and in which Thranduil dozed sweetly.

The Elven King broke their long silence and asked.

“Impressed with my Royal Apartments, dwarf?” he smiled proudly as he looked into Thorin’s curious eyes and sipped his wine.

“You have a very nice chamber, Your Majesty,” Thorin agreed and finally tasted the wine. “And very good wine.”

The elven creature produced a strange dissatisfied sound, like a squeamish snort.

“And what do you know about wine, dwarf? This is the best wine from Dorwinion which I have. And it’s made only for me.”

Thorin rewarded him with ironic smile and answered.

“I’m sure you’re an expert on everything, Your Majesty.” He said and met Thranduil’s narrowed eyes.

“You sound rather daring from the way you speak.” That one said and emptied his glass to the bottom.

His hand reached for the bottle and filled Thorin’s glass and his own with a new portion of ruby liquid.

“Nevertheless, dwarf I like the things you’re saying to me.” the Elven King said. His curved lips suggested a smile but his eyes were hard.

He dealt with his second glass of wine very swiftly.

Thorin noticed it too and understood that soon it will lead to irreversible consequences.

And he was right. This irreversible effect declared itself just within minutes.

His sassy Elven Majesty crossed his legs and sat sprawled on his couch with a bottle in his hands gazing at Thorin with his inebriate eyes with such loftiness as if he wanted to prove something to Thorin.

Thorin shook his head. Although he’s only had two glasses, he felt slightly dizzy because the elvish wine was too heady for him.

“So what, dwarf? Are you gonna gimmie my stuff back?” the boozed Elven King wondered and suddenly swung his leg touching Thorin’s knee.

The dwarf cleared his throat.

“I think that is enough for you, Your Majesty!” he leaned over to Thranduil and tried to get the bottle.

And the Elven King turned out to be rather adroit and he pushed the dwarf away with his knee, but the next moment his second leg stretched out and swept Thorin off his feet. Collapsing from the couch he fell on Thranduil and pinned him to the floor.

Thranduil’s azure eyes burnt with ireful fire, his pale cheeks were crimson from wine, and he was so damn handsome and seductive that the dwarf felt so much enthralled and soon Thorin’s hands reached for his hips and started fondling them.

His crazy eyes looked at Thorin. It lasted a few seconds, then his hands with the force of Thranduil pulled the neck of Thorin to himself, and the next moment he passionately pressed his lips to the dwarf's lips.

“Whatcha…” The drunken elven creature tried to dodge out of the dwarf’s hands. He crawled back, and Thorin chased him all the way until the elf’s back hit the wooden headboard of his royal bed.

Thranduil climbed up on the bed and Thorin followed him.

He hung over Thranduil’s face peering into his wrathful eyes and bent to his lips.

His hungry rampant kiss burned his own and Thranduil’s lips gifting them both inexpressible sensations.

Gasping for air, the Elven King abruptly pushed the dwarf’s chest to part with him. His crazy eyes were beholding Thorin with such astonishment. It lasted a few seconds and then Thranduil’s hands forcibly drew Thorin’s neck to himself and the next moment he vehemently pressed his lips to the lips of the dwarf.

There followed a kind of grapple between them in bed or somewhat alike.

Thorin’s hands pawed Thranduil’s body eagerly and he tried to pull off elf’s silken gown and heard a sound of tearing fabric. Elvish long boots fell to the floor with a thud.

The Elven King resisted languidly and at the same time slowly surrendered to Thorin’s fondles.

“Keep your hands to yourself.” he was about to say this when the dwarf suddenly flipped him over onto his belly, bared his back and buttocks and violently felt them. He really wanted to say his words but they stuck in his throat when the dwarf’s hands stroked his body so teasingly and so pleasantly.

His whole being shuddered and tensed abruptly as Thorin thrust in him.

“OHHHH, ERU!” Thranduil broke out a cry and suffocated in unbeknown sensation under Thorin. “You’re killing me this way!”

Thorin’s hand dived under Thranduil’s belly to soften the situation and painful perception.

The Elven King winced again and licked his dried lips. Thorin’s moves no longer seemed so harsh and morbid and the dwarf’s hand mauled his flesh so ravishing that it began to burn in his hand and shortly became hardened.

“Oh, Eru!” it came out of Thranduil again, and he suddenly felt his inner vexing tension thinning and turning into some highly enjoyable tremble that spreads all over his body.

He buried his face in the pillow and breathed noisily and heavily through his nose.

Thorin moved his second hand under Thranduil’s chest and he lay on the elf’s back. His groins slapped teasingly the elven butt when he moved inside him. He continued to shake Thranduil’s erected cock delighting elf.

All these hard frictions and very bright reaction of the Elven King drove Thorin crazy and he was laying himself out to please them both. And he succeeded very well and very soon.

Thranduil’s moans became longer and louder as he felt that unbearably huge and sweet wave sweep over him, and he let out a strong moan and yelled like possessed.

“OOHHH, ERUUU!!!”

Thorin felt him twitching spasmodically underneath and his palm was filled with elvish cum and it urged him to dart off to fast moving when Thranduil’s muscles contracted his cock inside. And soon he came too.

Relaxing on the Elven King’s body which now rested under him in sweet bliss, Thorin inhaled an inspiring euphoria and felt his mind finally come into a peaceful state.

“Well, saving from loneliness can be pretty pleasant.” Thorin mentally stressed observing the Elven King sweetly dozed nigh.

Seems this lately pleased elven creature heard his tranquil thoughts and slightly pushed Thorin aside.

The dwarf slid off his back and fell beside the elf.

The Elven King’s eyes scanned him very slyly for a while, and then his fingers touched Thorin’s back and ran down his spine to his buttocks causing waves of pleasant shivering.

“That’s ticklish.” Thorin informed him and smiled nicely.

Thranduil placed his palm on his neck and slowly ran it down his back. When he reached Thorin’s butt he strongly spanked it.

“Hey!” the dwarf tweaked in embarrassment.

“This is for barbaric treatment of me!” he mentioned derisively. And then suddenly drew Thorin closer to him and smacked his lips.

The elven King forced Thorin out of bed and brought him to his knees in front of her.

“And that is your petition of mercy…” his hand lowered and caught the dwarf’s cock. “And an act of contrition you willingly spur yourself to effectuate.”

“Once more?” Thorin inquired curiously and stretched to insatiable elven creature.

“Not you this time.” He heard a strange answer instead, and Thranduil’s playful eyes made him strained.

This Elven King pulled Thorin out of bed and brought him to his knees. He spread Thorin’s legs and started to caress his taut buttocks.

“That’s pleasant.” Thorin uttered hoarsely and felt Thranduil push and then press him to the bed.

“Shut up, dwarf!” he ordered, and Thorin felt his adroit hands part his buttocks as Thranduil tried to penetrate him.

Thorin couldn’t say that something unpleasant had happened to him the next instant. Yes, this feeling was quite unusual and new to him but it was still not repulsive.

And Thranduil felt like a top dog, catching all the joys of real pleasure. His vigorous sexual energy gushed up like a high fountain as he fucked the dwarf.

His both hands gripped Thorin’s cock and he began to shake it moving with wild abrupt jerks inside him.

Thranduil’s hard pushing and persistent shaking produced a stunning effect and soon Thranduil was rewarded with the dwarf’s heavy puffing.

As soon as the Elven King heard this, he leaned forward and put Thorin’s hair aside; his lips showered his neck with kisses delighting the dwarf. That one turned his head to face the Elven King, and their lips met. The Elven King suddenly stopped moving and hurled all his effort into kissing. They kissed and kissed for as long as they both were giddy and they shivered with the great excitement, and then Thranduil felt that he was ready to come. He pulled away from Thorin’s lips and again pressed him to the bed, rubbing the dwarvish cock and hammering his own between his buttocks.

“Oh, Eru!” he panted, his groins hit against Thorin’s butt in the last movements and he began cumming into him and then felt the dwarf came into his palms too. Thranduil leaned on his back, sweaty and breathless and embraced the dwarf’s wet belly. They were on their knees before the bed for a while attempting to recover their breath. And then Thorin helped trembling Thranduil to his feet and they both got into bed.

Eventually, when the both lovers had appeased, Thranduil pillowed his head on Thorin’s breast and very soon began to snore.

But the dwarf couldn’t sleep and all the time he mulled over the events of the night and whether the wine was the reason of their impetuous ardent romance, or whether it was a trick of the Great Eru. He admitted that he liked this kind of saving of the Elven King from his solitude.

He raised his head and his eyes fell on the Elven King’s lips which smiled in pleasure in his sleep.

Thorin’s fingers ran through his long silver silky hair, and he kissed the top of Thranduil’s head.

“Oh, what will become of him when he wakes and sobers up?” the dwarf thought feeling his body urgently demand this necessary relaxing break.

He closed his eyes and he was lost in slumber for a while. However, his dream was too short.

“Loyalty unto death and all that.” Thorin heard the annoying voice of the divine creature in his ears and opened his eyes.

The dwarf examined peacefully dozing Thranduil on his breast and gasped.

It was time to leave. He completed his mission “saved Eru’s beloved child”.

Thorin groped for a pillow under hand and lifted the head of the Elven King.

He laid it on the pillow and carefully escaped from the bed.

As he dressed he watched with admiration the seductive curves of Thranduil’s pale body feeling some inexplicable elation in his heart. This feeling accompanied him until he left the royal room and reached the dungeons where his companions were. On his way he encountered Bilbo. The hobbit fortunately had found the keys from all the prison doors. Thorin was surprised at how he did it but didn’t ask him.

They freed all the dwarves, and Bilbo told them to follow him. Thorin took one last look at the empty elven passages above, thinking of the Elven King, who might still be asleep, and hurried after the others down the stairs.

***

His Elven Majesty was awakened by a loud noise and angry cries.

He yawned sweetly and stretched out on his silken sheets. His dreams were so sweet and so ravishing that he had no desire to open his eyes.

But he had to do it as soon as his son knocked on the door and then cracked into his room.

“Ada!” he shouted in exasperation. “You’re sleeping here and meanwhile all the dwarves are gone!”

Thranduil disturbed by the commotion jumped up on his bed, wrapped himself in a white sheet and stared dreamily at Legolas.

“Did they take anything with them?” the Elven King asked lazily and suddenly he conjured up an image of Thorin.

“Go after them, nin ion!” his father called on Legolas. “I’ll be after you very soon.”

His son nodded and left him alone. Thranduil was deep in thought and though his head was still heavy from generous helping of wine he remembered something.

His hands touched his breast and his thighs where this dwarf had laid his palms, and then his fingers reached his lips and he recalled their kisses. Whoa! Their kisses: so fervent and so exciting, so enticing and so breathtaking.

Thranduil could have sworn he still had this giddy feeling. His lips smiled with pleasure and he leaned back against the pillows. Oh, how he longed to experience all those delectable things again! Why Thorin left so quickly? The Elven King wished to have it out with him.

Thranduil rolled over on his belly listening to his body. It was seeking for a new pleasure and his sudden pleaser was now far away. His eyes suddenly caught a sight of some type of a wooden stick that now was on one of his tables.

He rose from his bed and reached for this thing. It was a smoking pipe of brown color. The Elven King studied it thoroughly with curiosity. Perhaps Thorin had forgotten it when he left. Thranduil placed it back on the table and decided to return to it a bit later.

Ten minutes later he forced himself to dress. It was not so easy now. Well, Thranduil very quickly found boots and breeches, and to find a new gown, he had to rummage in his dressing room, because the previous one was pretty torn in the heat of passion.

Another ten minutes passed and there was another knock at the door.

But as the Elven King was already clothed he wasn’t afraid to open it.

There was Eldaron, his personal servant who was tousled and looked uptight.

“Your Majesty, all the dwarves are gone! Your son is chasing them with the captain of your guard!” he reported loudly.

His master produced a loud vexed snort.

“Stop fawning, Eldaron! You’re late with your news. I already heard that from Legolas.”

The black-haired guy fell to his knees.

“Your Majesty, have mercy! I searched all the prison chambers and found dwarvish clothing, my Lord! They escaped in such a hurry that they left all their clothes there.”

Thranduil burst out laughing at his remark.

“You’re a real idiot, Eldaron! Why do I need dwarvish clothes? I’m not a fan of dwarvish things!”

His servant nodded silently.

Something suddenly clicked in the Elven King’s head and he looked suspiciously at Eldaron.

“Did you say dwarvish clothes?” he specified. “Could you walk me…erm…mmm… down…” he stopped talking staring weirdly at his servant and listening to his own thoughts. “I will go there.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty!” Eldaron agreed, rising from the knees and ready to make his tracks.

Thranduil headed straight to the dungeons. As he descended slowly he tried to remember what Thorin had been wearing when his elven warriors had brought him from the forest. “Something leather and fur”. He thought.

Reaching for a torch on the wall he entered the open prison chamber and illuminated the small area. There on a wide stone bench in the corner lay two jackets. One was smaller and the other was larger with a rich fur collar.

The Elven King listened to the emptiness around him, put the torch on the floor, and then stepped forward, and caught hold of the furry leather outfit like a wolf grabbing its prey. He clasped it tightly in his arms and hurried back to his royal chamber.

Thank Eru, no one dared disturb him or ask him foolish questions and soon he was in his room.

Thranduil shut the door fast and leaned against it, breathing heavily. His heart was beating in his ears and he was out of breath. His arms still held Thorin’s tunic tightly.

He reached his bed and collapsed on it embracing this dear stuff. It smelled of Thorin and he nuzzled at the fuzz on the collar tickling his nose and inhaling this scent.

Thranduil’s soul filled with joy and delight as he imagined hugging Thorin.

“You are so damn good pleaser and a great kisser.” he whispered to Thorin’s leather tunic, and squeezed it firmly. It couldn’t respond to him and was humbly silent. But it was very warm and soon exchanged its warmth with the Elven King’s body and plunged him into an extremely pleasant warm state which shortly evoked dreams.

When Legolas returned home late in the evening he found his father curled up in a very strange pose holding some kind of fur jacket. He dared not wake him.

And it was the right decision. When his father awoke again he felt refreshed and rejoiced. His whole being sang like a harp and then he suddenly remembered about Thorin’s pipe.

He opened the door and yelled loudly.

“Eldaron!”

His servant was a really quick and complaisant guy and in ten minutes sharp he was in his master’s room.

“Yes, my Lord!” he exclaimed, ready to hang onto every word of his master.

Thranduil was busy with twirling a wooden thing.

“Do you know what it is?” he inquired.

“It’s a smoking pipe, my Lord!” the black-haired elven guy explained immediately.

“I know it’s a smoking pipe, you dumb head!” Thranduil cut him short roughly drilling with a strict, vexed glance. “I mean do you know how to use it?”

“It should be smoked, my Lo...” the elven guy put his hands fast over his face as his master swung this pipe at him.

“I will hit you with it, you lousy scoundrel if you don’t stop your stupid pranks!” Thranduil stamped the ground nervously.

Eldaron grasped this neurotic situation swiftly.

“Can I have a look at it, my Lord?” he asked politely and thrust out his hands.

“Only from my palm!” Thranduil warned him and watched jealously as his servant’s fingers touched the pipe. He turned it upside down and something that looked like dried hay fell out of it.

“Careful! You will break it!” his master shouted at him.

Eldaron looked at him patiently and uttered.

“I think I need to ask somebody for some advice. Could you lend me this thing for a while, my master?” he asked. “I will be very careful.”

“Nope. It’s out of the question!” Thranduil answered roughly unwilling to part with so desirable Thorin’s pipe which he had held in his hands not so long ago. “Try to find other ways to know how to use it, use your brain, pal!” he turned away from him and then turned back and added. “I want to know its secret before the new day dawns!”

Eldaron swallowed hard. “That will be not an easy task.” It flashed through his mind and he answered his master. “Yes, my Lord. I will do my best!”

***

In the meantime the dwarves and the hobbit had covered a very long distance travelling in barrels down the Forest River. And now they rested on the ground, drying themselves in the last rays of the evening sun.

Thorin bethought himself he should smoke a little but he couldn’t find his pipe anywhere. Wondering where he could probably left it he jealously gazed at the other dwarves who were already puffing on pipes.

Balin cast a sympathetic glance over dismayed Thorin and came to him.

“Take mine, lad!” he offered his pipe to their king.

Thorin smiled amiably at the white-bearded dwarf.

“Thank you, Balin.”

His old friend clapped him on the shoulder and spoke.

“You are welcome, lad.”

Thorin looked over his wet company and suddenly remembered the Elven King. He must have likely found the dwarves gone. He doubted that Thranduil would chase them and so now that he had satisfied the divine creature’s wish he preferred to think of return of Erebor.


End file.
